


an old fashioned touch

by lahtays



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Dom!Ava, Established Relationship, F/F, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, also some touch starved switch!ava, idk i dont care abt the dom/sub distinction, rly all u need to know is that triss is a brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24780751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahtays/pseuds/lahtays
Summary: "Stupid really is the only word for this, as she draws the hem up invitingly slow over her thighs. Ava's expression darkens considerably as she takes in the performance, and her genuine surprise at the gift seems to make concealing her frustrations impossible; jaw clenching, pupils dilating, her hands gripping the Triss's bedsheets as if she wishes it were Triss's hair instead.Or maybe it's only Triss who's imagining that. She wagers she'll learn Ava's thoughts on the situation soon enough."
Relationships: Detective/Ava du Mortain, Female Detective/Ava du Mortain
Comments: 13
Kudos: 125





	an old fashioned touch

**Author's Note:**

> i have absolutely nothing to say for myself. happy pride yall!

In hindsight, Triss _really_ should have known Ava wouldn't find the lingerie funny. That, admittedly, seems a little obvious now. 

Still, she doesn't fault herself for failing to anticipating the look on the vampire's face at present. 

_"Beatrice . . ."_

Leaning catlike against the doorframe, Triss offers the woman in her bed an anything-but-innocent smile. "Something wrong, Ava?” 

She knows she shouldn't make a habit of poking bears – much less vampires – but she's feeling especially stupid tonight, and the look of growing hunger in the blonde woman's eyes isn't helping matters much. The soft white silk of her new nightgown - thin and short enough to make her intentions clear, but _just_ modest enough to appeal to Ava's old fashioned tastes - emboldens her, dares her onward like some rowdy, terrible friend from college. 

_Stupid_ really is the only word for this, as she draws the hem up invitingly slow over her thighs. Ava's expression darkens considerably as she takes in the performance, and her genuine surprise at the gift seems to make concealing her frustrations impossible; jaw clenching, pupils dilating, her hands gripping the Triss's bedsheets as if she wishes it were Triss's hair instead. 

Or maybe it's only _Triss_ who's imagining that. She wagers she'll learn Ava's thoughts on the situation soon enough. 

_"You . . . "_

The woman in question seems to be at a loss for words, and Triss opts to adds insult to injury. Holding her laughter, she raises a pointed finger to her chest and feigns her best old Hollywood pout. "Who, _me_?" 

Ava seethes. Triss smirks. 

Finally, Ava settles on a poor attempt at composure. "You are . . ." she tries again. Considers a moment. Shakes her head. " _Filthy_." 

"Is that a good thing?" 

"Come here. _Now_." 

Her smile wavers, but doesn't vanish. She takes a lazy, teasing step forwards, but halts to spin in place, grinning as she feels gravity assist with the lifting of her skirt. If the _dress_ isn’t enticing enough, she's certain her white lace panties underneath will more than finish the job. 

Ava sighs, and it would be stoic if it didn't sound so damn _guttural_. 

"Am I in trouble?" Triss purrs, taking another suggestive step closer. Ava leans forward instinctively, hands still making tight fists in the sheets. Her knuckles clench and unclench around the bunched up fabric, and Triss feels her stomach flutter at the sight of her curling fingers. She takes another step, then another, as careful and deliberate as a ringmaster taunting a lion. 

And Ava does make for a _very_ convincing lion. 

"Come here," Ava says again, lower and rougher still. "Come here and find out." 

Despite relenting to do just that, Ava only lets her take a single step more before she finally attacks. Fast as lightning, or maybe faster still, the vampire's hand lurches across the space between them, grabbing Triss's wrist and yanking her forwards before she can so much as blink. 

The best she manages is a muffled squeak as she's quickly overpowered and held tight in place above the vampire, Ava's fingers slipping under the lingerie and gripping Triss's waist to hold her firm against her lap. Ava lets herself fall back against the pillows with a small victorious smirk, and Triss laughs as she struggles half-heartedly against the other woman's steady grip. 

As she works to maintain the teasing lilt she started with, Ava's tightened hold against her hips makes her voice tremble and her words fall out a little breathless. “So - I take it that's a _yes_ to me being in trouble?” she manages. 

"I suppose it must be,” Ava replies. Triss feels the vampire's fingers tighten once more against her sides, hard enough now to pinch. 

Hard enough now to make her shiver with anticipation. 

To her disappointment, Ava seems to sense her excitement building and abruptly releases a hand from her waist, favouring instead to trail a lazy zig-zag down her thigh. She comes to the end of the hem, bunching its fabric up absently in her long fingers and regarding it with the pretense of near clinical disinterest. 

"Tell me what this is about," she says – and it's an _order_ , not a question. Triss feels her breath catch a little as her lips struggle against incoherency. 

"A – a little birdie told me you appreciate a more . . . _old fashioned_ touch. I thought I might endeavour to surprise you. Because I love you.” 

"You thought you might endeavour to _tease_ me, you mean." After a flicker of thought, Ava's lips purse into a bemused smile and she adds, "and – I love you, too." 

Triss grins. "Oh? So I'm _not_ in trouble, now." 

"You most certainly _are_ ," Ava retorts. "Did your _little birdie_ also put it in your head that I _enjoy_ being teased by foolish human girls?" 

Her hand releases around the fabric, slowly migrating upwards along the cloth with clever, expert fingers. The sensation of silk beneath her callused touch draws goosebumps across Triss's flesh, and she has to bite back a sigh as Ava's path leads up towards the hollow of her collarbone, very narrowly and very deliberately avoiding her breasts. Her index runs ghostlike against the bone there, dilated pupils taking in the sight of the smaller woman in her lap with a _wanting_ so blatant it makes Triss shiver. 

If Triss ever had an answer to the question, it's forgotten as soon Ava's fingers shift to wrap very delicately around her throat. 

“What do you imagine a vampire might _do_ ,” she continues softly, “to a foolish human girl like that?” 

Even with the brunette woman's weight above her, Ava shifts back up effortlessly into a sitting position, her other hand sliding from Triss's waist to the small of her back and gripping her tighter against her lap. Her hold remains gentle and safe against her throat, but the gesture, the thrill alone has Triss's pulse hammering away with desire, with another altogether _different_ throb beginning somewhere lower still. 

Ava has _never_ touched her like this before. Not ever, and not even close. For all her roughness in conversation, she always seems to favour tenderness whenever Triss is involved, as if one wrong move might shatter her as easily as one might shatter a porcelain doll. And perhaps it might. Outside of their first few nights together, full of exploration and honesty with one another, Triss never pushed the subject; Ava has always needed the space and patience to work things out for herself, and so Triss was content to wait. 

And, admittedly, to daydream. 

Even still, no possible late night fantasy could have prepared her for the way Ava is looking at her – _touching her_ – now. Triss feels her hips roll instinctively against Ava's lap, heat coiling in her stomach when the taller woman's fingers tighten just a little in response. 

“Well?” the vampire prompts, her brow raised tauntingly. 

“I – _God_ . . “ Triss laughs a little to mask a keening sigh as Ava's hand slides down to cup one of her breasts, an idle thumb stroking at the sensitive skin beneath the silk. “I was hoping you might _show_ me, instead. Maybe a demonstration? Feel free to take your – _mhm_ . . .” 

A muffled moan escapes in the place of words as Ava pulls her down into a rough, devouring kiss, the hand she had kept idled at Triss's back now coming up to cradle the side her of face. Her fingers stroke and cling to Triss's cheek, her jaw, her chin – cycling back and forth in quick and graceless motions, as if she can't quite decide where best to focus her efforts. _Even now_ , Triss muses, _Commanding Agent du Mortain can barely find her way out of her own head_. She can't help but murmur a small laugh into the kiss at the thought, endeared and amused and _overwhelmed_ all at once. 

Ever the strategist, Ava uses Triss's parted lips to her advantage, seizing the opportunity to slip her tongue in and claim Triss's own with the same dominance and skill as she would claim anything else. Triss accepts the entrance, wrapping her arms around the vampire's neck as she sighs deeper into the kiss, her hips grinding instinctively against her a moment later when Ava seeks to capture her bottom lip with her teeth. 

“Ava . . .” she breathes, muffled against the onslaught of the other woman's kiss. “ _Show_ me . . . please . . .” 

Ava responds to her pleas with for a low growl, fingers trailing the edge her jaw before reaching around the back of her neck to clutch at the base of her hair. She tugs gently – experimentally – and then lets out a choked noise that Triss barely catches over the volume of her own obscene moan. Encouraged, Ava grips her hair tighter, using the sounds of her quickened breath and stuttering heartbeat for guidance. It's all Triss can do to run her hands along Ava biceps, her other hand slipping under her faded shirt with no plan in mind save for _touch, touch, touch._

Ava's resulting sigh – followed by the involuntary jerk of her hips – doesn't help matters in the slightest. 

Already Triss can feel her own wetness coating the inside of her thighs, and doesn't chance to risk the embarrassment of looking down at the state of Ava's light grey sweatpants between them. Instead, she leans back slightly, breaking away from the kiss to regard her love with the scarce few tethers of self discipline she has left. All prior thoughts of playfulness vanish as she takes in the sight of the woman before her, in its place feeling another pang of desperate need, growing steadily stronger and near impossible to ignore. 

_Perfect_ is an understatement for Ava, now so more than ever; blonde hair loose and dishevelled from a usually pristinely kept bun, pupils blown wide, lips swollen and parted and far, _far_ too easy to kiss. She can see the tell tale state of her nipples through the thin cloth, and it's all the prompting Triss needs to refocus her thoughts on the game she'd set out to play. She allows her fingers to migrate higher under Ava's shirt, trailing over the flat, toned planes of her stomach and then further still, up and across to lightly capture a perked nipple between her thumb and index. She brushes over it first, feather light and teasing, then rolls it between the pads of her thumb and forefinger, savouring the way Ava's head tilts back, gritting her teeth to bite back another moan. 

Smiling a little, Triss repeats the motion, again and again the way she knows Ava likes, until finally she feels her fingers depart from Ava's breast with a will of their own, trailing down to slip under the band of her sweatpants, then dipping past her underwear beneath them. 

Ava’s breath catches in her throat the near second Triss's digits find their mark. “ _Triss_ -" 

She doesn't waste time being surprised to hear the other woman refer to her by nickname, though the sound of it almost makes her shiver with the sheer intimacy of it. Still perched tight in Ava's lap, her position is a _little_ awkward for what exactly she has in mind, but she isn't deterred and – as her fingers run back and forth along the considerable slickness between Ava's legs – she wagers that neither one of them cares enough to break away from this newfound closeness. 

Gathering up the wetness there, Triss brushes a teasing index against Ava's clit; the response is _instantaneous_ , and just as beautifully intense as she'd hoped for. Not for the first time, Triss makes a mental note to thank the Echo World for making vampires so divinely, delightfully _sensitive_. 

“ _Triss_ ,” Ava says again, her voice rough and hoarse and intoxicating. “Beatrice, I -" 

“Too much _teasing_ , then?” 

“N-no. No, no it –“ 

“Maybe I should stop?” 

Ava's hand tightens almost anxiously in her hair at the question, and even as the sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through her synapses, Triss can't help but laugh. 

“I’ll take that as a strong _no_ , too,” she smirks, and Ava’s grip relaxes in subsequent relief. 

Triss is probably enjoying this a little _too_ much. 

The vampire whines ( _whines!_ ) at the repeated sensation by Triss's hand, and Triss doubles her efforts, focusing fully now on circling her clit in slow, fleeting movements. Each brush against bundled nerves has Ava moaning, sighing, gasping, and when Triss moves to slip a single finger inside of her, she has to bite back her own building pleasure at the sight of Ava's expression alone. 

Ava’s eyes squeeze shut as Triss works her lazily, pressing her lips into a tight line to keep from crying out at each pump of the other woman's fingers. Her clenched jaw and tensed muscles makes Triss's stomach tighten, but it also stirs her to ignore the instinctive urge to chase her own pleasure, instead shifting slightly in Ava's lap to make room to slip in a second digit. 

Ava's arousal allows her fingers to sheathe to the knuckle with ease, and with a smug smirk, she curls them slightly, hitting a spot that coaxes a desperate groan from the blonde woman's lips in spite of her obvious efforts to hold back. She curls her fingers once, twice, three times more, relishing the desperate way it makes Ava rock against her. 

Seeing Ava undone like this – by her hand _alone_ \- is nothing short of exhilarating. 

By Triss's count it must be less than two minutes before she feels the other woman begin to clench and flutter around her fingers, her body shaking as she inches dangerously close to oblivion. Ava lacks all of her usual restraint as she clutches at Triss's back, pulling her into an embrace and burying her nose against the crook of her neck. Her harsh breath tickles the human woman's ears as she kisses along her jaw feverishly, pressing Triss tight against her as if she were the only thing keeping her tethered to the world at all. 

It's a sweet thought, made even sweeter when Triss abruptly withdraws her hand entirely. 

Ava's head snaps up to stare at her, confusion and betrayal clear in her flushed expression. Triss presses her lips together with a smug smile, which only deepens as understanding dawns in Ava's eyes and she lets out a frustrated exhale. 

“ _That_ ,” she hisses, “is not _funny_.” 

“Oh, I don't know – _I_ think it's pretty funny.” 

Ava's undignified huff is so very close to _adorable_ , but Triss doesn't dare to comment on that, especially right now. Instead, she brings her own slick covered fingers to her lips, locking her gaze on Ava's dazed green eyes. 

She offers the vampire a chaste, innocent smile before taking them into her mouth and sucking. 

Something _snaps_ in Ava's features, and all Triss registers is a snarl before the vampire rolls them both over in one quick, adept movement, pressing Triss roughly against the mattress too quickly to be anything other than supernatural. She gasps, both in shock and arousal, too stunned to do anything save for stare up at Ava as she grabs at her wrists and pins them tightly above her head with one hand. The other hand drags across her silk-adorned body, not gentle like before but rough and graceless, consumed now with the single purpose of claiming, dominating, _owning_. Triss's heart leaps into her throat as Ava begins to rub her through her thoroughly soaked panties. Her back arches at the friction, but Ava removes the hand to hold her hip down a moment later. 

Even still, Triss just can't seem to help herself. “Is this the part where I get my demonstration?” she asks breathlessly. 

“You are not _half_ as witty as you think you are, Detective,” Ava answers with a growl. 

“And you're not half as scary as _you_ think you are, Agent du Mortain.” 

“I am well aware of what game you wish to play with me. You truly think I'm foolish enough to indulge you?” 

“You must be, since you're _indulging me_ right now.” 

Ava stares at her, indignant and frustrated in equal measure. Her hair is fully loose from her updo now, blonde strands falling so picturesque about her face that Triss momentarily forgets she's being held down, instinctively trying to reach for it. Finally, Ava’s eyes flicker back down to Triss's body, lingering once again on the silken mess of the nightgown. Her expression slackens a little, lips parting with desire, though her gaze as ever remains steady and intense. 

And when those green eyes finally flicker back to Triss's brown ones, she immediately recognises defeat. She grins triumphantly. Ava sighs. 

“Do not even _think_ about moving,” she warns, eyes narrowing. 

Triss bites down amusement shaking her head in solemn agreement. 

Ava releases her wrists slowly, halting above for just a moment to watch for her reaction. When she makes no move to disobey, Ava offers her a wry smile, that same hand now coming to briefly brush against her cheek. “Good girl,” she murmurs, and then laughs in earnest at Triss’s answering blush. 

Just _how_ she manages to shimmy out of her pants and underwear so damn elegantly, Triss will never understand, but the thought is quickly cast aside when Ava re-joins her a moment later, lifting her shirt up and over her head in another swift, confident movement. Her eyes don't leave Triss's as she throws the shirt out of sight behind her shoulder, quickly shifting forwards to close to distance between them once more. 

With Ava hovering above her now, one hand braced against the headboard and the other splayed out against her side, Triss can't help but squirm under the sheer confidence of the other woman's gaze. It isn't arrogance or cockiness so much as a quiet sharpness in her eyes as she regards her, watching her not unlike she does during their long sessions of training together. Her eyes seem to tell that same story now; observing her form, calculating her movements – planning her next attack. Triss shivers again with anticipation, her hands instinctively reaching to rid herself of the frustrating silk barrier between them . . . 

Only to pout when Ava's hands immediately seek to pin her down again. 

“What did I _just_ say?” she growls. There's a light lilt to her voice that suggests she doesn't quite mind the disobedience, and the warmth of it makes Triss smile, too. 

“Is that your job, then?” Triss asks with a small laugh. “Undressing me?” 

Ava bites her tongue to conceal her own smile. “I think not,” she replies casually, quickly schooling her face back into seriousness. “You wanted to wear it, and so I think I ought to make you keep it on for me for the remainder of the night.” 

“I . . oh. That's . . . _oh_ . . .” 

“Unless you would prefer I tear it off you, instead?” 

“I . . .” 

_What's gotten into her?_ Triss thinks, her stomach tightening in excitement with the pleasure of each promising word in her ear. _Please, please tell me I'm not dreaming._

The fluttering pace of her heart only seems to incite Ava further, and she presses herself closer into her, letting her hips drag torturously slow against Triss's. “Perhaps I shall do that later,” she continues, releasing her grip on Triss's wrists and letting her fingers run idle up her arm, down her chest, all to settle _so achingly close_ to where Triss wants them more than anything. “You do look so _pretty_ in it, after all . . .” 

Triss swallows hard, and her next breath comes out weak and wanting. “ _God_ – Ava, I . . .” 

“No witticisms to add for me this time?” Ava taunts, cool and steady in her ear. “ _Good_. If you're still inclined to speak at all by the time I'm finished with you . . . well. That means I must not have fucked you hard enough.” 

Triss says nothing. Every remaining ounce of her self-restraint is focused on keeping her hips from rutting up to beg the other woman for release. 

“Beatrice?” 

In the wake of her silence, a flicker of uncharacteristic nervousness seems to soften Ava's features, and she drops her hand down to cup the other woman's face. “Forgive me,” she says softly, her eyes searching for any signs of reservation. “Am I – was that too much?” 

At present, Triss doesn't trust the precarious line between her mouth and brain, and so she responds with the next best reassurance she can give; using her newly freed hand to capture Ava's jaw, pulling her lips into a crushing kiss to meet hers. 

She feels Ava’s worries melt into the kiss above her, her usual certainty returning in the place of its absence. She pulls away a moment later, tilting her head to regard Triss's coy smile of affirmation, before she seems to finally put the matter to rest in her head entirely. The moment of softness dissipates between them as quickly as it had arrived, and Ava wastes no further time, rising to he knees and leaning forwards to tug Triss free of her panties. Triss raises her hips to assist, hoping her awkward wriggling might help to speed to process along, but the resulting sound of the fabric ripping as Ava's pulls them from her ankles makes her think the sentiment may not have been needed at all. 

Her laughter at the thought quickly melts into a sigh as Ava's mouth begins to migrate down, trailing diligently along her collarbone, then southwards to drag her tongue over each achingly hard nipple, then descending further still until the anticipation is so much she has to hold herself back from writhing. Ava ignores the nonverbal pleas of her body, favouring instead to grips her waist tight as she kisses along her stomach, her abdomen, the damp insides of her thighs. Her green eyes bore into Triss's with a shocking intensity, before she starts again to kiss down the coarse dark hair between her legs. 

_Coarse hair . . . damn it._

As absurd as it is, she had _meant_ to shave. She had _meant_ to look perfect for Ava, to _be_ perfect for her, to have this evening be – 

“ _Oh_ – oh God . . .” 

Whatever insecure train of thought she had been following is promptly derailed and destroyed by the onslaught of Ava's mouth on her sex, strong hands holding her hips steady in place as her tongue laves at her wetness. She works her slowly, patiently, drinking her down with all the discipline Triss had expected, but can't even hope to match. Her hips roll stubbornly in spite of Ava's hold, trying to meet each wave of her tongue as it glides against her most sensitive parts, again and again and again. 

Ava ignores the attempts, pulling Triss's hips down further against her face as her tongue begins to circle more directly against her clit in steady, skilful bursts. One hand releases its hold to spread her legs further apart, seemingly relishing the better angle the move grants for her. The hand lingers to comfort and caress along her thigh, and Triss immediately reaches to entwine their fingers, squeezing tight as her breaths grow heavy and the mounting precursors of release begins to build inside her. With Ava's free hand, she lets her fingers run now where her mouth abandoned; a perfectly manageable pleasure, until Triss feels one of those same fingers teasing at her entrance. 

“ _Oh_ . . .” 

She slides in slow, achingly slow, despite the ease in which Triss's wetness allows for. A quick cursory glance at Triss's expression follows, waiting for any subtle signs of discomfort, before she adds another. 

Triss bites her lip, but when Ava curls her fingers inside of her, the cry of pleasure comes out regardless. 

“Keep going – please, _please_ – “ 

Ava begins to slide her fingers in and out, her pace quickening more and more until the moment she deigns to relent, always _just_ as she feels Triss beginning to rush towards a merciful climax. 

“Ava – _please_ – “ 

Each denial makes Triss’s breath hoarser, her escaped cries more desperate. Pacing herself as only a vampire could, Ava's own breath remains frustratingly steady except for one fleeting moment; when she meets Triss's eye, and her motions still and her breath catches and her green irises burn like a forest set alight. The moment is gone before Triss can fully process it, Ava's curling fingers pushing the thought from her mind entirely. 

Ava knowing her body so _utterly_ – every tell, every hint, every cheat in the rulebook of her pleasure – only serves to make her clench tighter around the two digits inside her. 

And then a third, a moment later, filling her perfectly and completely. 

“ _Ava_ \- I - I'm nearly . . .“ 

Ava keeps her gaze set on the other woman as she fucks her with her fingers, relentless now until Triss thinks the pooled heat inside of her might actually, just about _kill_ her. Her own hands claw and grasp at the bedsheets, the headboard, the silk of her nightgown – _anything_ to cling to as her body begins to peak into euphoria. 

Just but she feels her legs begin to tense and shake, Ava then removes her fingers entirely. Not to tease her this time, but instead to press her tongue inside her cunt as deep as she can go. 

Triss cries out as her orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, her back arching up from the force of it. Ava continues through the crescendo of it, her tongue tireless as it coaxes everything and more from Triss's shaking hips. It's only when Triss collapses, boneless, back down amongst the pillows, that Ava finally slows to a stop. 

Triss can scarcely think for the numbing bliss of her overstimulated body. Ava pulls away, kissing her sensitive clit gently before lifting her head to observe her. 

“That . . . _that_ was – ” 

“Was that the sort of demonstration you had in mind?” 

She doesn't smile up at her from between her legs, but the hint of it tugs stubbornly at the corner of her mouth, now glistening and coated with Triss's arousal. Triss shakes her head bemusedly, but her laugh comes out more as an exhausted sigh. 

“Get over here and kiss me,” she breathes. With a grin, she rolls her eyes and adds, “Show off.” 

“I do not _show off_ ,” Ava retorts, but gingerly concedes to climb back up to meet her, greeting her with a tender, languid kiss. “I only perform to the best of my ability. As anybody should.” 

“ _Your_ best is _leagues_ away from anybody else’s.” 

Ava regards her for a moment, and then smiles. It's surprisingly sheepish. “I know.” 

Triss can only scoff. “ _Uh huh_. Show off.” 

Ava presses into her again, capturing her mouth with another kiss, more aggressively this time in a way that Triss finds wholly unexpected. She blinks as Ava's hands once more begin to travel, her caress journeying from the curve of Triss's cheek to the valley of her stomach, with fingers gentle yet purposeful enough to reignite the spark of warmth within her core once more. 

The pressure builds, easier and far quicker now, until Ava's hands slip down between her legs again and Triss has to capture her hand before she‘s swept under and over once more. “What are you doing?” she asks, her voice still wrecked from only a few minutes before. 

Ava raises a brow, a wry smile breaking through her matter-of-fact exterior. “I'm sure the answer is obvious.” 

“But -" 

“You recall what I said about you continuing to talk once we were done, yes?” 

Triss bites her lip, holding back another wave of excitement she can feeling bubbling up in her chest. “I – yes. I remember.” 

“Then it would seem I am not yet finished with you. Not even _close_ to finished.” 

Triss laughs with delight, until the laugh turns to a sigh, and then a gasp, and then a gentle cadence of moans. 

She’ll have to invest in a few more dresses, she thinks, if _this_ is what it gets her. 

**Author's Note:**

> okay so turns out i do have some things to say for myself dfjfdj
> 
> i hope you enjoyed ! i'm quite nervous to share this bc i . . . RLY am not good at smut and honestly didn't think i would be attempting to write it again but i genuinely love ava (and triss!) so much that i figured i would make the attempt once more. so apologies for it being a little all over the place and out of chara ! it's definitely not my strong suit lmao !
> 
> but anyway, kudos/comments are always super appreciated, and i wish all of u a happy and safe pride month !


End file.
